Monthly Archives: October 2010

Just between you and me, I’m mighty impressed that I’ve kept this blog up for so long.  And yes, several months IS a long time.  Ask anyone who’s had a sucky pregnancy.   But my posts are going to be a little sparse for a while for the following reasons:

1.  I have a 2.5 foot-tall tyrant climbing bookcases while juggling knives and spitting out food with the force and accuracy of an automatic rifle.  When I do get a chance to write, he’ll bulldoze his way through the shrapnel and power off my computer.  So basically, I’ve given birth to a weapon/eraser.  Maybe that should be his Halloween costume.

2.  We’re building a house.  Well, Toby is building a house while I try to keep the critter alive.  We’ve been mostly successful.

3.  I’m unable to write America’s Next Top Novel while writing these meager little posts.  On Monday, NaNoWriMo starts and I’m participating.   Woot Woot!  That’s right, thirty days and thirty nights of literary abandon!  I’ll be trying to write 50,000 words of a Young Adult novel.  I hope that at the end of the month Toby doesn’t come upon my computer and see “all work and no play makes Jack a dull boy” typed over and over and over again, à la The Shining.  Heeeeeere’s Johnny!   Creepy.

 4.  I don’t earn any money while writing these meager little posts.  I know, SHOCKING.  But unless I put a virtual tip jar out there that accepts PayPal, I’m not earning while I regale you with all the ways I’ve humiliated myself recently.  Money isn’t my top priority, but I do like to contribute to the household (e.g. pay for craft store bills.  See item 5) so I’m trying to take advantage of those opportunities.   

5.  It’s knitting, beading and sewing season and I plan to become a B-I-G HUGE craft dork.  It’s also drinking season.  What?  That’s totally related.

So, for the next month or so, my posts will be sparse.  Wait…was that a sigh of relief I just heard from some of you who subscribe to the blog?  :)  You can definitely count on my monthly letter to Roper.  Other than that, it will just depend on how much I humiliate myself or how far I stick my foot in my mouth over the coming weeks.  The holiday season always provides great opportunities for that sort of thing…mixing me with social situations that require a little decorum is always a ticking time bomb.  

Happy Halloween from the Steere Family!!!

I have become THAT patient.  The one who, upon seeing the name on the chart hanging from the door, causes cringing and a slow count to ten.  I’m positive the nurses are talking about me while I wait in the examination room.  Did you see who it is?  That sweaty girl who has a million problems but says everything is fine and then cries.  She brought her cranky baby.

It’s true.

First of all, I’m TERRIFIED of doctors.  I assume it’s their mission to make me feel like an idiot and make me cry.  Hence, the sweating.  I’ll be fine until I get in the waiting room and then I break out in a cold sweat so bad that I’m tempted to grab a diaper out of Roper’s bag to start mopping my forehead.  Just a little hint, don’t do this unless you enjoy being the waiting room circus sideshow. 

My distrust of doctors likely comes from experiences like several years ago when an “expert” INSISTED that my symptoms were all in my head and that I was basically being crazy.  I had to demand that the donkey, er… doctor, order an MRI.  Turns out I had a ruptured disc in my neck and a giant tumor on my thyroid.  Thanks dude.  You haven’t seen crazy.

Last week I had an appointment with Dave Hyde at Wenatchee Orthopaedics.   Dave is awesome.  He and Dr. Vejvoda fused my neck almost two years ago, fixing a botched procedure that an evil West Side doctor performed (my biased and entirely unprofessional opinion).  The same doctor who told me, at the age of 32, that I was too old to be mountain biking and that I needed to “slow down.  Take your foot off the gas pedal.”   MINUS TEN!!!  Anyway, Dave and Dr. Vejvoda fixed me up tidily and I am forever grateful.  They even encourage their patients to maintain an active lifestyle.  Weird.

So Dave walks into the examination room to find a very sweaty girl and a cranky toddler who, at that very moment, has a terrible blowout — an eye watering, nuclear disaster.  Imagine feeding an old dog a bunch of cheese and sticking him in a sauna to fart it out.  People, that’s what we’re experiencing.   I apologize profusely, strap Roper in his stroller and offer Dave my sweaty hand. 

“So, we’re looking at your knee again?  Still bothering you?”  This is when I have to explain that, yes my knee is bothering me, but I also…kinda, sorta had this bike wreck?    And it made my knee worse?   And I think I injured my shoulder in the wreck?  Um….and there was whiplash involved and my neck has really been hurting me so I’m…well, I’m worried that I may have undone all of that work you did in there?

Cue the welling of tears and trembling chin.  It is my biggest fear that I will have to have a THIRD surgery on my neck, or a THIRD knee surgery.  Or perhaps break new ground and have shoulder surgery.  Mentally, I can’t take any more surgeries.  FOR THE LOVE OF GOD, KEEP THE KNIFE IN THE HOLSTER!

This is why I love Dave.   He chuckles, looks me in the eye and assures me that my body is not disintegrating into dust.  “You crashed your bike.  Your body didn’t like it.”  And he pops out of the office to order some x-rays and presumably gasp fresh air while calling his wife to let her know that the Sweaty, Nervous Patient with the Very Stinky Toddler is going to make him late for dinner.

Stay tuned for tales from physical therapy.  I’m sure they will include sweating, accented with some clumsiness and possible wardrobe malfunctions.   I am ME after all.

You guys, you would be so proud of me.  Once I actually left for New Mexico, I hardly even panicked or felt guilty.   I DIDN’T EVEN HAVE TO USE MY ANXIETY MEDICINE.  For a girl who a) has anxiety attacks over not-so-fluffy lettuce, b) just left her Little Man for longer than she ever has and c) received a New Mexico Mouth Massage, this was quite a breakthrough. 

After being hit with a houseful of colds, a teething Howler Monkey and an unexpected crap ton of work right before I left, I had never been so relieved to get on a plane!   I think I would have been happy to be sent down a Chilean mine just for the change of scenery (Ooooh, that’s going to get some hate mail.  I’m KIDDING.  I’m absolutely riveted to the live video stream of the heroic miners).

The truth is that I sort of horned in on my friend Erin’s trip to visit her parents for six days.  Her parents, Donna and Dave, live in Los Alamos and are incredible hosts.  They are quite possibly the kindest, most welcoming people on the planet AND they had activities planned for every day of our trip including great eats.  I wanted to put them in my pocket and take them home with me.

But I’m not going to tell you about  shopping in Santa Fe, hiking to Williams Lake, staying in the Mabel Dodge Luhan House, visiting the Taos Pueblo, climbing up to the Alcove House in Bandelier, eating at Café Pasqual’s or drinking green chili beer at Eske’s.  I AM going to tell you about the crazy New Mexican mouth massage I received. 

Because these things only happen to me.

On our first full day in New Mexico we all went to Ten Thousand Waves Spa and Resort.  It’s a gorgeous mountain spa just outside of Santa Fe and honestly, Mickey Mouse can stuff it, because this is the REAL “Happiest Place on Earth.”  Being notoriously cheap, I had never been to a spa so I was enamored with the big white robes, beautiful Koi pond and relaxing foot soak.   Then Donna, Dave, Erin and I enjoyed the Waterfall Bath.  It’s a private area of the spa including a polished concrete hot bath, a plunge pool (with waterfall) and a sauna.  PURE BLISS.  How have I lived so long without this???  I almost washed the redneck off me.  Almost.

After the hot bath, Erin and I proceeded to get ready for our massages.  YES, it was a couple’s massage because that was the only opening they had and YES, my robe got wet while at the hot bath so my butt and boobs were showing through while I traipsed around the lobby.  But that was nothing compared to the awkwardness to come.

Our massage therapists met us in the lobby and led us downstairs to our room.   By pure chance, I ended up with Noola (Noula?  Nula?  Anyway, it rhymed with doula which was fitting because she gave birth to a whole new level of social discomfort.  She will now be known as Her Awkwardness)   I stripped off my robe, hopped on the table facedown and prepared myself for some serious relaxation.  I was taken by surprise when Her Awkwardness started karate chopping my back and then HOPPED UP ON MY TABLE, STRADDLED ME and started systematically forcing all of the air out of my lungs while my eyeballs popped out of my head.  I wanted to pass Erin a note asking “are you witnessing any of this?”  The whole thing felt clumsy, frantic and a little like a Saturday Night Live skit.

Silly me, I thought the weirdest part of the massage was over.  Nope.  I was face up when Her Awkwardness started massaging my neck.  She noted that my jaw was tense and asked if I wanted her to work on it.  People, if only I could go back in time and say “no.”  I heard the snap of surgical gloves and suddenly my mouth was being MASSAGED FROM THE INSIDE.  What the hell?  

I couldn’t see Erin or her massage therapist but I heard what I thought was a snicker.  I totally lost it and started giggling hysterically.   Her Awkwardness asked if she was using too much pressure.   Ummm, that’s not the problem, WOMAN.   The problem is the fact that you have a surgically gloved hand shoved IN MY MOUTH.

I hear Erin’s massage therapist say “Excuse me, I need to leave the room” followed by some sobbing noises and the door shutting.  We then proceed to hear her, out in the hall, sobbing for the next ten minutes.  I immediately freak out and decide that she’s just had a massive loss in her life, grief overtook her and she started crying and then I rudely laughed “with her.”   I’m panicking at my social faux pas and finally tell Her Awkwardness that this whole thing is a little too weird.   Meanwhile, Erin is facedown and can’t see anything, so she’s left wondering what on earth is going on.

The other massage therapist comes back in, our massages quietly continue as if no weirdness occurred…and then we’re done. 

Erin and I race to the locker room and frantically try to sort out what happened between stifled giggles.  We decided that what sounded like sobs, had to be laughter.  How could the other massage therapist watch her coworker karate chop and straddle her customer and then MASSAGE THE INSIDE OF HER MOUTH without completely succumbing to giggles?   Especially if she could see the look of surprise on my face.  Impossible.  I would love to have been a fly on the wall of that room after we left!

I still giggle about it every time it pops into my head.  The best part is that after we regaled Dave and Donna with the story between fits of hysterical laughter, I looked up information on jaw massages.  Turns out, that’s a totally valid technique.  But they should at least warn you before they shove a gloved hand in your mouth.

Despite the awkwardness, I left Ten Thousand Waves completely and utterly relaxed.  It was a great way to start a vacation and so absolutely FITTING.  Because really, who else would that happen to?